


A Bunch of Angry Kids

by theholidayclub



Category: Newsies (1992)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, M/M, Mild Language, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-04
Updated: 2014-01-22
Packaged: 2018-01-03 10:45:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1069539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theholidayclub/pseuds/theholidayclub
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>David just wants to get to graduation. Jack just wants to get out. Both of them get a little side tracked when a threat against the school paper turns into a fight to get their voice, and everyone else's, heard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Carrying the Banner - Part 1

At some point, working for the Banner became about more than printing a newspaper no one ever read. It was more than free credits towards graduation, or a place to hide out when people got to be too much. When it _all_ got to be just too much. Somehow, it’d become a part of his identity, and he liked it.

However, that _didn’t_ mean he liked having to get up at the ass crack of dawn on publication day.

His alarm clock had started blaring ten minutes ago, and he had yet to get out of bed and shut it off. He’d hoped it’d quiet on its own and he could sleep a little longer, but the creaking of the bedroom door as it opened let him know that going back to dreamland was not going to be an option this morning.

“Come on kid, get up, get up.”

Jack rolled over in bed, glancing at the old man through one half open eye, still clinging desperately to the idea of sleep. “Whatsa mattah wit chu?” he mumbled, his voice thick.

“What’s the matter with me?”

“What’s the matter with you?” Jack echoed, sitting up and flinging back the covers. He rubbed at his eyes, sliding lazily out of bed. “Shit,” he muttered, realizing just how late he was running as he glanced at the still beeping clock on the dresser. “Thanks Mr. K.”

“Get up with the alarm Jack, it makes the whole house happier.” Kloppman’s response wasn’t the warmest, but he gave Jack a nice pat on the back as the teenager shuffled past on his way to the bathroom.

He was a bit unorthodox, as far as foster parents went, but out of all the homes Jack had ever been in, he liked this one best. Even if it was a bit crowded half the time.

Kloppman took in a lot of foster kids, mostly teenagers who were having trouble being placed. Most of them only stay a few weeks, using Kloppman as an in between instead of being stuck in a group home.

A few of them, like Jack, had been there a couple years or so, with no plans to be relocated before they turned eighteen. Jack had been staying with the old man almost three years, the longest he’d ever stayed anywhere and the longest Kloppman ever held on to a kid.

Jack asked him once, a while back, why he took in so many teenagers, even though he “wasn’t exactly getting a younger if you know what I mean.” He gained a lot of respect for the old man when he learned that he’d been living on the streets when he was even younger than Jack had been.

Never one for long and luxurious showers (and not wanting to be accused of using all the hot water before anyone else got to it) Jack was dressed and ready and out the door not long after actually getting out of bed. The walk from the aging house to his high school wasn’t a long one, and he didn’t have the time or the money to get a driver’s license, so he jogged halfway there, arriving in the office for the newspaper only a few minutes late.

The cramped room, hardly bigger than a supply closet, was full to bursting with desks and computers and little odds and ends the boys had packed in over the school year. Photos and posters were stuck sloppily all over the walls with thumb tacks and tape, subjects ranging from _Sports Illustrated_ swimsuit models to video games characters. It was hard to maneuver the room, let alone find anything in it, but there was something oddly comforting about the mess.

Nearly everyone was already there, spread about the space as best as they could be. Itey and Snitch were playing paper football in one corner, while Crutchy loudly kept score. Skittery balanced precariously in chair, his baseball cap covering his eyes as he slept. Specs nose deep in a book, glaring at Crutchy every time he shouted too loudly and pulled him from the story.

“Nice of you to join us, Kelly. Not like we don’t have work to do or a paper to print or anything like that.”

Jack flipped off the source of the voice without looking over, knowing it was Blink just by the tone. He slid into the chair in front of the main computer and pulled up the final draft of the week’s paper. “Printer all set, Race?”

The short junior half asleep by the big bulky printer sat up straight at his name, nodding. “All ready to go. Boots ran to get more paper just in case, but I don’t think we’ll need it.”

“Would you quit sending him running for shit when you’re too lazy? He’s not the errand boy, asshole.”

Race smirked. “He’s kind of the errand boy.”

Jack rolled his eyes and didn’t respond, concentrating on formatting everything properly on the screen in front of him.

The double sided sheet of paper, full of stories mostly written by teachers, wasn’t much to look at. Still, it filled Jack with an odd sense of pride, and he wanted the rag to looks its best.

A set of heavy footsteps sounded behind him, and then a pair of hands were on his shoulders. “Morning everyone! Hey Jack, how’d you sleep?”

“On my back, Mush,” Jack answered distractedly, shrugging his shoulders so his hands would move, hardly noticing when the boy burst out laughing. “Alright, it’s ready, on your feet losers.”

There was a flurry of movement and screeching chairs, and then everyone was in their place, working like a well-oiled machine. It was an easy routine at this point. They’d put out a paper together so many times they could probably do it in their sleep.

Twenty minutes and a nearly smoking printer later, the boys were filing out of the room, arms laden down with copies of the Banner. They had designated spots to leave them all over the school, and less than half an hour to get them out until the first bell rang.

Of course, getting anything done on time didn’t often happen when boys were as easily distracted as this bunch.

“Did the pipes back up in the night, or did Morris here forget to shower again?”

Jack laughed loudly with everyone at the quip at the lanky teen making his way towards the group, but he quickly stepped in front of Race and the others when Morris and his brother got a little too close. “You wanna back up a bit there, ugly?” he said coolly.

Morris did move away, but Jack didn’t have much time to celebrate his victory before the two brothers shoved their way through the group, knocking purposely into Crutchy in the back, nearly sending him sprawling to the ground.

They laughed, caught up in their own stupid humor, and failing to notice Jack trying to trip them until he had already succeed. He took off down the hall, nearly run some poor sap down as he ran from the wrath of the Delancys.

He was nearing the end of the administration hallway with nowhere to turn when the door to the principal’s office opened. All three boys skidded to a halt, trying their best to avoid looking winded.

“What’s going on here?” Standing in the doorway was a short and stout sort of man, squinting at the three seniors in suspicion.

“Nothing to worry about here Weasel, right boys?” Jack said brightly, shooting large smiles at Oscar and Morris.

“Principal Weisel, Kelly, or I’ll have you in detention – again. Now get to class, all of you, the bell’s about to ring.”


	2. Carrying the Banner - Part 2

So far, David was very unimpressed with public school.

And no, he didn’t care if that made him sound like a spoiled brat.

(Actually, he cared very, very much, and felt so guilty about the thought that he texted him mom between fourth and fifth period to tell her how great his new school was. He didn’t even get the usual pit in his stomach that normally made an appearance when he lied, because he knew it’d make her feel better about everything.)

Still though, he didn’t think his bad mood was completely unreasonable. He hadn’t exactly been attached to his old school, at least relationship wise, but it was one of the best high schools in New York, and a diploma from a private school looks good on college applications.

He knew he shouldn’t complain. Things could have been a lot worse. He could learn to adjust. He _would_ learn to adjust.

He just hoped nearly getting killed in the hallway wasn’t going to be a regular occurrence. That was something he would not tolerate.

The boy didn’t even help him up. Just shouted an apology over his shoulder before barreling down the hall again, two goons at his heels. Not exactly the ideal start to a morning.

He was almost done though, just ten more minutes until this class was over, and then it was free period. He had to check in with the principal, and then find his way to the newspaper office.

That was the silver lining David had been clinging to the whole day. His parents had been rather insistent on him joining some sort of club, wanting him to make friends and knowing that involvement like that looked good to colleges. He’d been excited to learn that the school had a student-run newspaper. He wanted to major in journalism, when he finally made it to college, and figured working at the newspaper would be an extra bonus in his favor.

The bell rang, and David quickly gathered his textbook and notes into his arms and hurried out of the room, desperate to avoid the expected rush of a crowd.

While it was unsurprisingly loud and cramped by the lockers as he grabbed his things, the administration hallway was practically bare as David let himself into the principal’s office.

Talking to Weisel was a bit of a culture shock for David. He hadn’t exactly been anyone’s favorite student (he corrected his teachers too much for that) but he’d never felt so outright dismissed by an authority figure before. The man even got annoyed when David asked him where the newspaper office was.

He’d found it well enough on his own though, and knocked softly on the door before opening it.

He had tried not to have expectations; he didn’t really have anything to compare the experience to, after all. None the less, the scene in front of him did not match anything he’d pictured in his head.

Maybe it wasn’t too late to pick a different club.

No one seemed to have realized he was there. They were all wrapped up in something else, none of it having to do anything with printing a paper. There was a kid in the corner with braces on his legs, concentrating intently on a handheld video game while half a dozen others watched over his shoulder. Another guy, who looked barely taller than David’s little brother, hung out the open window, smoking. Everyone seemed to be scattered and goofing off, and no matter how many times he scanned the room, he didn’t see a single teacher.

He was about to make a break for it when someone spotted him and bound over.

“Aren’t you that new kid, from that fancy smancy school in Suffolk? I heard about you in Calc.” The guy threw his arm around David’s shoulders, pulling him further into the room. “Hey Jack, look, a new kid!”

“Let the poor guy go, Mush, you’re scaring him.”

David let out a relived sigh when the energetic junior moved away, but he sobered quickly when a guy he could only assume to be Jack stepped in front of him. He wasn’t much taller than David, but something about the confidence he held himself with left David feeling incredibly intimidated. Recognition watched over him when he got a proper look at the guy’s face.

“Hey! You’re the one who ran into me this morning!”

The entire room burst into laughter, except for Jack, who just smirked. “Sorry about that, new kid, but when the Delancy brothers are after you, you don’t stop for anything.”

“Right,” David grumbled, cheeks still flushed with embarrassment from being laughed at.

“You got a name, new kid?”

“It’s David, David Jacobs.”

“Nice to meet you David David Jacobs. This is Mush, Blink, Boots, Specs, Itey, Snitch, Race – put that shit out and greet the new kid, Race – Crutchy, and Skittery.”

David frowned. “Those can’t be your real names.”

Everyone started laughing again, and David was really starting to wish he’d sought out the chess club instead.

“Nicknames are a part of the charm of this place. You’ll get yours soon enough, not to worry. Now, Dave, what brings you to the Banner?” Jack asked.

He’d never wanted to be swallowed into the floor more than he did now, with every pair of eyes in the room on him and waiting for some kind of an answer.

“Er – college applications.”

Jack chuckled and clapped David on the back. “Better you than me, huh? Just stick with me, Dave, I’ll show you the ropes. You’ll be part of the team in no time.”

“I really don’t think –”

“It’s a golden opportunity, Davey. Jack’s been here longer than any of us, he really knows what he’s doing.”

The boys nodded and murmured their agreements with Crutchy’s claim, and Jack was grinning rather smugly because of it.

What did he have to lose, really? Other than his dignity, but David was pretty sure being the new kid had already ruined most of that for him.

“Yeah, alright. Why not?”

There was a collection of cheers and “welcome aboard, new kid” echoing around the small room for a moment, before Jack shooed everyone off and led David over to a free seat.

“Now, we just put out the week’s paper this morning, they go out every Wednesday, so we’re taking it easy today. Tomorrow though, we’re back at square one. Specs here is drafting up an email to send out to the school, to see who wants to write an article or something.”

He gestured to one of the computers, where one of the guys who had been watching the video game earlier now sat, typing expertly at the keys. He glanced over at the boys at his name and spared David a friendly smile, before returning his attention to the email.

“Usually a couple of teachers give us snoozer articles, the English department submits a poem or two, and we alternate every week on which one of us is writing an article. It’s kind of slow at the moment, since it’s only the first month of school, but it’ll pick up a bit.”

“It doesn’t seem very – big,” David said carefully.

Jack snorted. “That’s cause it’s not. Looks more like a newsletter than any kind of paper, and hardly anyone actually reads it. We don’t even have a faculty advisor, cause Weasel doesn’t think we’re important enough to pay a teacher to sit here with us.”

“That’s not fair, though!”

Jack just shrugged. “Welcome to Horace Greeley, new kid. We’re the capitol of ‘not fair’. Now come on, let me give you the rest of the grand tour.”

~

When Jack had finished going over the usual schedule for the paper, he took David around the rest of the school, pointing out the best bathrooms and the quickest way to all of his classes. He was very animated when he talked; David found it a little distracting, he was focusing more on Jack’s face and his movements then his words.

By the time they had circled around and made it back to the Banner’s office, laughing at a story Jack had told, the bell was just about to ring, and everyone was packing up for the day.

David swung his backpack over his shoulder, waving to everyone who said goodbye to him as they left. Not long after, it was just him and Jack in the room.

“Big plans for the afternoon, Dave?” Jack asked as he circled the room, double checking that all the computers were shut off.

“I’ve got to get my brother from the elementary school down the street, if that counts.” He bit his lip, fussing with a strap on his backpack. “You wanna come? Unless you have plans…”

Jack just grinned at David. “No plans. Well, not till now.”


	3. Carrying the Banner - Part 3

Les loved Jack.

Which was weird, at least to him, because Jack had next to no experience with anyone younger than Boots.

If he was being honest, he kind of liked the kid, too. Sure, David made him put out his cigarette when they got to the elementary school, and that felt like a bit of a waste, but he didn’t mind that too much. The kid was something else, though. Practically David’s opposite, loud and excitable and full of stories about his first day at his new school.

“How was your first day, Davey?”

“Yeah, how _was_ your first day, Davey?” Jack echoed, watching David with a grin. Les smiled too, when he realized Jack had copied him, and Jack figured then that having Les’ approval was a pretty big deal, even if he was only nine.

Sorry. Near ten.

“Well, it’s really different from my old school, so I still have to get used to it, you know?”

Les nodded seriously, and David cracked a grin to match the others.

“I did meet Jack though, and all of his friends. So I guess I’d call it a good day after all.”

Jack’s grin widened. He was feeling a bit warm after David’s comment, but in a nice kind of way. He’d been a little worried that he’d come on too strong earlier, when he’d first properly met the new guy, but apparently he hadn’t done too badly for himself.

They were approaching the center of town. David’s family lived on the other side of the square, just a couple more blocks from where they were. It was a bit out of Jack’s way, but it was still plenty bright out so the walk back wouldn’t be too bad, he imagined. Either way, he didn’t really mind. There wasn’t much waiting for him back at Kloppman’s (homework excluded.)

Jack had gotten caught up in telling some story, losing his focus on everything around him in favor of making the brothers laugh – so it was Les who spotted _him_ first.

“Do you know that guy?”

Jack’s gaze followed where the fifth grader was pointing. Across the street, wearing a fancy suit and leaning on an equally fancy car, was a man with a pointed smirk on his face. He was following the group with his eyes, and Jack’s stomach flipped.

Of course he knew him.

“Uh, not really,” Jack muttered, turning his head away.

“Well I think he knows you, since he’s heading over this way,” David pointed out, glancing uneasily between Jack and the approaching man.

“Let’s, um, come this way.” Jack grabbed David and Les both by the wrist and pulled them down a side alley. They came out a street over, and Jack continued to pull them along behind him, glancing over his shoulder every few seconds.

Finally, David tugged his arm out of Jack’s grip. “I’m not going any further,” he huffed, crossing his arms.

Jack ran his fingers through his hair and nodded, before opening the front door to the building they were standing in front of and heading inside, Les and an exasperated David on his heels.

He knew this little coffee shop like the back of his hand. He led David and Les away from all the seating, to the small hallway that lead to the storage in the back.

“Who was that guy? Why was he following us?” David asked, glaring at Jack.

He felt suddenly like he was letting David down. Every time David saw him, he was running away from someone. That wasn’t the kind of impression he wanted to make on anyone.

“His name is Snyder. He’s my…parole officer. He thinks cornering me when I least expect him is gonna work in getting me to actually talk to him,” Jack said smoothly.

“You’ve been to jail?” David squeaked.

“Wow!”

The two seniors looked down at Les, who was watching Jack with wide eyes, looking awestruck. Jack resisted the urge to laugh.

“I’ve messed up in the past, but I’m turning myself around,” Jack explained, purposely keeping things vague. “I’m not some idiot who goes around knifing people, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m a good guy.”

“Right, course you are.”

“You think I’m lying?”

“I barely know you. Everything you’ve said today could be a lie for all I know.”

Jack’s hands curled into fists at his side. “I’m not like that.”

David looked like he wanted to say something else, but they were interrupted by the door to the back swinging open.

“What are you doing back here, you can’t – Jack Kelly, where you been, kid?”

Jack happily embraced the red haired woman who’d emerged, hugging her tightly before kissing her hand. “Guys, meet Medda Larken. She owns the place, makes the best cup of coffee this side of the Brooklyn Bridge.”

The older woman smiled prettily at the unfamiliar faces, greeting them pleasantly.

“Mind if we hang out a bit, Medda? Catch our breath and all? It’s quite a hike out this far, you know.”

Medda laughed and nodded, playfully pinching Jack’s cheek. “No need to sweet talk your way in, stay as long as you like. I’ll send out a couple of drinks, free of charge.”

Jack noticed the way David’s face lit up at the mention of free coffee, and figured he’d won this round, at least for the moment. He reached out and grabbed one of the straps of the other boy’s backpack, leading him out to a seat.

~

The sun was starting to set when they finally left the café. There wasn’t a sign of Snyder anywhere, but Jack still felt a little jumpy. He resisted the urge to pull out a cigarette, settling for playing with his lighter instead. “Not a bad little place, huh?”

David nodded, grinning, and Jack suspected he was on a bit of a caffeine buzz. “It was great, really great. How do you know her?”

“She’s a friend of my dad’s,” Jack explained with a shrug. He’d known Medda ages, he didn’t really think about what it was like before he knew her.

He glanced at the sky, frowning at the darkening color. He wasn’t quite ready to head back to the crowd at Kloppman’s.

David seemed to notice the time at the same moment. “We should get home, are parents probably have dinner waiting. What about you?”

Jack shook his head, shoving his hands in his pocket. “Nah, my parents, they work pretty late. I usually eat by myself.

“Come eat with us then!” Les cut it.

“Oh, no, it’s alright –”

“No, he’s right, you should come with us,” David said, pulling his phone out. “I’ll check with my parents, but I’m sure they won’t mind. Besides, they’d love to meet the guy who managed to make my first day bearable.”

Jack thought David might be bushing, and he knew his own cheeks were going red, but David had moved away to make the call before he could be sure. He was flattered, the warm feeling returning to his stomach.

Les was looking up at him expectantly, waiting for an answer. Any excuse to avoid the stingy leftovers at home was something Jack usually jumped on, and it was just a small family dinner. People did that kind of thing all the time, didn’t they? How hard could it be?

“Yeah, okay. Thanks,” he added, grinning down at Les and ruffling his hair. He could do this.


	4. Carrying the Banner - Part 4

There was something oddly intimidating about bringing Jack home to meet the rest of his family. David felt jittery, like everything was riding on this working in his favor.

He wasn’t quite sure what ‘everything’ was. His budding friendship with Jack, surely. Maybe his whole setup at the paper, because if something happened and Jack didn’t like him anymore, none of the other guys would. It seemed like they all followed along with whatever Jack said. He was the obvious leader, and whether it was official or not didn’t seem to matter.

It was very important that dinner didn’t turn into a mess.

He shouldn’t be so worried, logically. It was hard to find nicer people than his parents, or his sister. They’d always supported him and all of that lame stuff, no matter what. Even when he didn’t think they would. Jack was…interesting, sure, but definitely not the worst thing he’d shoved at his parents.

Les was nearly dead on his feet by the time they got to the apartment, and was riding comfortably on Jack’s back as a result. So of course, when the three of them walked through the front door, his mother let out a worried cry at the sight of them.

“He’s just sleeping, mom,” David laughed, hugging her before dropping his backpack by the door. He helped his mom ease the sleepy fifth grader off of Jack, before maneuvering around the boxes to get further into the apartment.

The moving boxes outnumbered the furniture in bulk alone. His parents had been more worried about getting the boys back into the swing of school quickly, so the unpacking process was still long from over.

Jack was standing rather awkwardly by the door still, and David resisted the urge to laugh. He waved him over, watching his classmate try and avoiding tripping over the clutter much the same way he had.

“These are my parents, Esther and Mayer, and that’s my sister, Sarah.” David gestured toward the young woman sitting in an arm chair in the living room. She looked up from the notebook she was writing in to offer the boys a friendly smile. “Everyone, this is my, um, my friend Jack. He works on the newspaper at school, he showed me around and helped me out today.”

David ignored the pointed look his mother was sending him, along with the smirk on Sarah’s face that he was sure had something to do with the blush on his cheeks.

“Can we eat now?” Les asked, finally awake enough to realize he was home and hungry.

David had never been more grateful for his kid brother, glad the attention was off of him for the moment.

Once everyone was seated around the table with a bowl of stew in front of them, the questions started flying.

“So, Jack, how long have you been working for the school paper?” Mayer asked.

“Since I was a freshman, uh, sir. I’ve kinda taken to running things, I think. Me and Blink, one of the other seniors, at least. They don’t really have a teacher helping us anymore, so we didn’t have much of a choice.”

“Is that legal?” Esther interrupted, passing around a basket of rolls.

Jack happily took two and shrugged. “I mean, on paper, our principal is our advisor cause we can’t have the paper without one, but he doesn’t care too much about the whole thing and doesn’t want to spend the money to get another teacher to sit with us.”

David thought his parents seemed a little horror stricken at the thought of a bunch of teenagers being solely responsible for something like a school newspaper, but if Jack noticed their expressions, he hid it well.

“I think I manage to hold down the fort pretty well. And we’ve got Davey here, now. He’s probably smarter than all the rest of the guys combined, he’ll make a great addition to the group.”

Jack clapped David on the shoulder, causing the boy in question to choke on his bread and go red for the second time that night. He ignored the smirk that was sneaking back onto Sarah’s face.

“Well that’s great, David. So nice that you’re already making friends, I knew you could do it.”

David groaned at his mother’s comment, dropping his head onto the table. He should have known avoiding embarrassment wasn’t going to happen.

Jack was laughing, though, and David couldn’t help but join in. Maybe the night had been successful after all.

~

After dinner, when everything had been cleaned up and put away, David brought Jack out onto the fire escape. It was his favorite part of the new apartment. Sharing a room with Les erased any bit of privacy he had before, but no one else seemed as fond of the metal balcony as he was, so, at least in his head, David considered the spot his own.

“Your family’s really nice, Dave,” Jack said, leaning on the railing and grinning over at the other boy. “Like mine.”

“Yeah, they’re not so bad,” David agreed, smiling back at Jack. “I think this move would have been a lot harder if we weren’t so close.”

“Why did you move?” Jack asked. His eyes widened and he dropped his gaze. “If you don’t – you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

David shrugged. “It’s not some private sob story. I mean, it sucks, but - My dad’s company laid him off, and he was having trouble finding a new job. We couldn’t afford the house anymore, and tuition for the second trimester was going to be due soon. One of my dad’s old high school buddies offered him a job out here…so we moved. Obviously we’re still, uh, unpacking, as I’m sure you saw. I probably should have warned you about the mess, sorry. Mom and Sarah have been unpacking when they can but they both work part time and Sarah’s taking a couple of courses online so it’s a bit of a slow process –”

“It’s great,” Jack interrupted, shaking his head in obvious amusement. “Seriously David, you think this is a mess, you should see my room. Your mind will change real quickly.”

“That’s you telling me to shut up, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely. It’s also true, though. I can’t remember the last time I saw my floor.”

This time David let himself laugh, his whole body relaxing. “Sorry, I know I can ramble a bit sometimes. Sarah calls it a curse, but it’s helpful when I write essays, so I suppose it could be worse.”

The window squeaked open behind the pair, cutting off whatever Jack was going to say, and David’s dad stuck his head outside. “I’m supposed to inform you that it’s getting late, remind you that you still have homework to do, and suggest that you finish up your conversation,” Mayer recited, glancing over his shoulder at David’s mom, who was watching the boys from her seat in the living room.

“Thanks dad, I’ll be in soon.”

Mayer nodded, easing himself back into the apartment.

“I should head back anyway,” Jack said quickly, pushing away from the railing. “Homework of my own, and all, and we’re not exactly neighbors, you know.”

David frowned, trying to imagine how far Jack was going to end up walking in the dark. “Do you want to stay the night? Or – or um, I can see if my dad can give you a lift.”

“No!”

David jumped slightly, taken aback by Jack’s hasty rejection and the panicked look on his face.

“Sorry, thanks, but no, it’s fine. I’ll um, call – someone can come get me, probably. Or I’ll walk, it’s really not that far. I’m fine, I don’t need a ride.”

“Right, okay.”

“See you tomorrow then?” Jack asked, offering a half grin.

David smiled and nodded. “Yeah, see you tomorrow.”

They leaned forward at the same time, each with an arm extended for a hand shake, but they ended up bumping shoulders and knocking wrists instead. They moved away quickly, avoiding eye contact.

“Later, Davey,” Jack said, heading down the stairs of the fire escape.

David watched him for a few moments, before sighing and heading back inside. He shut the window and turned around, only to find himself being stared down by his mom and sister.

Maybe it was better that Jack hadn’t stayed.

“So – he was cute,” his mother said, eyes twinkling, her voice louder than necessary. “Wouldn’t you say so, Sarah?”

“I would mother, very cute. Wouldn’t you agree, _Davey_?” Sarah asked.

David glared at both of them, ignoring the heat spreading across his face. “I’m going to bed.”


	5. Santa Fe - Part 1

It turned out to be a longer walk than Jack had anticipated. It was chilly in the dark, with the season changing, but he couldn’t find much more of a reason to complain. He didn’t sleep much anyway, and Kloppman would be too busy with the others to notice he wasn’t back yet.

He needed the thinking time anyway.

Jack had told a lot of lies in his seventeen years, from little fibs to outright stories. His therapist used to say it was a part of adjusting to foster care, but he’d been in the system for seven years now, and his habit of improving the truth hadn’t gotten any better.

Lying came easily to him. It was fun in a way, like a game, twisting his words and people’s heads, manipulating others to get what he needed. He usually felt pretty proud of himself when he pulled a story off.

This pit in his stomach was a new experience for him.

Jack didn’t know why he felt so guilty about lying to David about his parents. He’d never been open about them in the past. The guys at the Banner didn’t even know, though he was pretty sure they figured something was off about his home life.

He didn’t like talking about his parents. Telling the stupid sob story sounded like whining, like he was asking for special treatment just because he had a dead mom and a dad with a prison sentence.

He scoffed, pulling a cigarette from the pack in his pocket and lighting it quickly. Why couldn’t it be that simple, that easy to explain? He’d gotten over his mom’s death ages ago, mostly. Being told people were sorry for his loss just made him feel like a kid all over again, vulnerable and too stupid to know what was going on.

His dad – no one even knew how to respond to that one. ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ didn’t quite cut it.

The few brave ones who couldn’t stop themselves from asking what he’d done were met with silence. Jack figured that probably wasn’t the best way to handle it. Everyone always assumed he was locked away for killing Jack’s mom after that. While he certainly blamed her death on his dad, his mom hadn’t been murdered.

There was nothing redeemable about Francis Sullivan. He’d refused to acknowledge his son for nearly three years, until he was jobless and homeless and needed a place to stay. Then he couldn’t wait to be a father. He couldn’t wait to make an honest woman out of Jack’s mom. He couldn’t wait to be a _family_.

Jack laughed bitterly, the sound echoing off the walls of the empty alley he was walking through. He didn’t have much experience with family, but he knew his father’s idea of it wasn’t right. Family didn’t hurt each other the way he had hurt them.

It didn’t matter anymore, though. He couldn’t touch him now, and bruises faded over time. If people wanted to think he got his scars from his own stupid mistakes, they were more than welcome to. It just helped his reputation. It was better that way.

Which is why he didn’t understand why lying made him feel so bad. He survived off the stories he told. He didn’t want to feel guilty. He didn’t want to feel anything, really. Feelings tended to land people in the worst situations, stuck for who knows how long. The last thing Jack wanted was to be stuck.

He just had to hold out for a few more weeks. His birthday was right around the corner, he’d turn eighteen, and then he could leave. No one could control him after that, not even Snyder. He wouldn’t miss him. Jack might write to Kloppman, call and check in on him and the other kids every once in a while, but he’d do his best to erase Snyder from his memory all together once he left.

New York would seem like an old dream, or another life, once he was out west. It was like a whole other world out in New Mexico.

That’s how it sounded when his mom used to talk about it, anyway. She’d grown up there, spent nearly half her life in Santa Fe. She’d moved out to New York to be famous. She had big dreams of being a singer, and the voice to back that dream up, but Jack coming along had put a damper on that plan.

For as long as Jack could remember, she’d talked about moving back there. She’d nearly had enough money tucked away, hidden from his dad’s greedy hands, for their plane tickets, too. That was before she got sick. After that, the money went to medical bills, and his dad was going out more and more, and Jack was alone at the rundown apartment more than not.

And now he was here, two blocks from an old house with an even older owner, and a boatload of hormonal teenagers with nowhere else to go.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t grateful. He knew there were worse homes than Kloppman’s. Hell, he’d lived in a few of them. And anything was better than living on the street, that one he knew for sure.

He just wanted to be more than the dead end foster kid Snyder kept telling him he was.

That was why he needed to get out of New York.

He wanted to have another cigarette, to slow his racing heart and steady his hands a bit, but he knew Kloppman didn’t like it when he smoked, so Jack figured he could do the old man a favor and not stink of tobacco smoke when he let himself in to the house.

He dug his key out of the bottom of his backpack when he reached his street, but as he approached the house he realized the porch light was still on, and the front door was already unlocked when he tried the handle.

Quiet was never something Jack mastered, but he tiptoed towards the stairs as best as he could, concentrating so hard he nearly jumped out of his skin when someone spoke behind him.

“You know, I waited up for you, the least you could do is say goodnight.”

Kloppman was sitting in one of the kitchen chairs, just in the entrance way. He stood up and stretched, grumbling tiredly.

That guilty feeling was back.

“You didn’t have to –”

“I know I didn’t have to, kid. I did anyway, though, didn’t I? So why don’t you hurry up and tell me where you were so we can both go up to bed.”

Jack nodded, ears going red. “We got a new kid at the paper today. We got along well and I showed them around a bit. Ended up getting invited over for dinner.”

“She pretty?”

“His name is David. Don’t think he’d really appreciate being called pretty.”

Kloppman hummed in response, watching Jack with an odd expression on his face, but didn’t say anything else. Jack took advantage of the moment to make his escape.

“Thanks for waiting up for me, Mr. K. It – uh – it means a lot. G’night.”

“Goodnight, Jack.”


	6. Santa Fe - Part 2

David was working very hard at trying not to notice that Jack was running late that morning. Based on the look Race kept shooting him, he wasn’t doing as well as he’d hoped.

It just seemed off. Jack had been the one who told him they all usually got to school early to talk about the paper, but it was a quarter after seven and there was no sign of him.

Blink lost patience first. “I’m done sitting around. Let’s see what they sent for the paper and figure out what we want to use.”

Everyone mumbled their agreements, shifting their attention to the computer Blink was sitting at, pulling up the email for the paper. His face dropped as he skimmed the newest message.

“What’s the matter? No good stories?” Crutchy asked.

“No, no, there’s plenty of stories. But we’ve got an email from Weisel. The Superintendent, Pulitzer – he’s shrinking the Art program in his school. With cut backs, they’re gonna shut down the paper.”

The protests were instantaneous. Amidst the shouting, David dropped into the seat Blink had abandoned to read the email for himself. It was a standard “from the desk of” memo, obviously forwarded so Weisel didn’t have to put in too much work. It talked mostly about budget cut and not having the money to fund the program, but it read more like sorry excuses to David.

“What are you idiots shouting about in here?”

Jack had appeared in the doorway, windswept like he’s ran the whole way to the school, and looking at everyone freaking out with confusion etched on his face. Everyone bound over to him, Blink pushing his way to the front.

“They’re shutting down the paper, Jack!”

“This’ll kill me, I’ve only got the one extracurricular,” Skittery complained.

“I’ll be back as the football team’s water boy,” Boots added with a sigh.

Mush shoved his way up next to Blink. “Why are they doing this to us, Jack?”

“They can do whatever they want, it’s their damn school,” Race grumbled bitterly.

“Calm down, it’s probably a gag or something,” Jack said. “Lemme see.”

He made his way over to the computer where David was still sitting. Jack leaned over him, a hand on David’s shoulder to brace himself while he read. David felt his stomach flip and was glad Jack was distracted enough by the email not to notice his blush.

Jack’s expression grew darker the further down the email he got, his fingers digging into David’s collar bone as his hand curled into a fist on instinct, and the mood in the room followed suit.

“It’s not fair,” Boots said, drawing everyone’s attention. “We got no say at all.”

A murmur of agreement went around the room, and Race threw his arms up in frustration. “It’s a rigged deck. They’re holding all the cards.”

We’re just gonna have to deal with it guys. What else can we do but pack up the room and make the most of the last paper?”

Jack glared at Mush, slamming his hand on the table top and making David jump. “Hey, hold on! No one’s going anywhere! Just – just give me a second, let me think.”

The room fell into silence, everyone watching Jack.

“Jack…you done thinking yet?” Race asked after a few minutes.

Jack clapped his hands together, nodding. “Alright, alright, here’s the deal. We don’t _let_ them shut the paper down. We’ll refuse to leave, we can make signs or flyers, show them we mean business, and force them to see our side.”

David chuckled. “What, like a strike?” he asked, rolling his eyes at the ridiculous idea.

“Yeah, like a strike!”

David’s eyes widened. He hadn’t been the least bit serious when he put a name to Jack’s overeager idea, and he’s expected the other boy to realize that. He wasn’t the only one questioning Jack’s sanity, though; the entire room was making their disbelief very clear.

“Are you outta your mind?” he heard Race shout.

“It’s a good idea!” Jack defended, causing David to feel a momentary swell of confidence and flattery, until he remember just what it was Jack was endorsing.

“Jack, I was just joking,” David said quickly, standing and grabbing Jack’s arm to pull him to the side. “We can’t strike against the school, that’s crazy.”

“Why?”

“You need, I don’t know, a union or something to strike. It’s for adults, with, you know, jobs, real jobs, and real reasons to strike. We’re just a bunch of angry kids with no money.” He shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Maybe if we got more students involved, from the other programs being cut, but –”

“Then we organize!” Jack climbed on top of the table, waving his arms and regaining the room’s attention. “They’re not gonna get to walk all over us! This is our school, too!”

The group shouted their approval, but David pulled at Jack’s wrist until he climbed back down from the table. “You can’t just rush everyone into this, Jack. Storming the office isn’t going to get you anything but detention. You need a plan, you need to be serious.”

Jack sighed, nodding. “I know, I know. Dave’s right,” he said, raising his voice. “We gotta be serious about this. Pulitzer’s got a lot of power here. It we’re gonna do this, we gotta do it right.”

“Then tell us what to do, Jack!” Boots called

Jack turned to David instead, a large and expectant grin on his face. “ _You_ tell us what to do, Dave.”

And David grinned back, because as crazy as this idea was, how much trouble they could easily get in if they stepped the wrong way…they needed his help. They _wanted_ his help. Jack wanted him to help him lead this insane mess of a strike.

This wasn’t quite how he’d imagined making his mark in school, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t gonna run with it.

Who knows; it could be kinda fun. It certainly wouldn’t be boring, at any rate.


	7. The World Will Know - Part 1

David Jacobs was, when put in the right situation, a powerhouse. Jack didn’t know how else to put it. When he was given the attention of the room, Jack had honestly expected him to falter a bit. Instead, David took the whole thing in stride, laying out a plan for everyone.

And what a plan he had. He talked about sit-ins, about trying to get teachers to back them up, maybe taking up a petition to bring to Pulitzer himself.

This is why Jack needed him. Sure, he could talk a good game without breaking a sweat, but David had the brain to turn the ideas rolling around in Jack’s head into reality.

Jack was starting to feel a little invincible, drunk with power. He and David were going to make an excellent team, he just knew it.

He was pulled back into the conversation at the sound of his name, coming from David with a hint of exasperation in his voice.

“I was listening,” he defended quickly. “We’re kicking ass and taking names, right?”

“Yes Jack, that’s exactly what I said. I’m sure beating up kids in the street will give us a great reputation,” David deadpanned.

“Can’t get any worse,” Crutchy cut in.

Jack’s face brightened, and he gestured at Crutchy like the sophomore’s response meant Jack had won something somehow.

David’s expression showed he was clearly unamused, but there was something about it that stirred a feeling in Jack that he didn’t have a name for.

“Right, okay boys, time to split up. We want to tell all the other programs what we’re planning.”

Blink, Race, and Mush bounced out of the room, volunteering themselves to talk to mutual friends, while Crutchy dragged one of the freshmen out with him. Jack sent Specs and Skittery to meet with the art teacher, before addressing the room again. “So, who wants to go talk to the student council?”

The previously loud and excited room sobered immediately, going nearly silent.

“Come on guys, it’s the student council. Don’t tell me you’re scared of a bunch of nerds.”

“We’re not scared!” Boots protested, standing up defiantly. He hesitated a bit, realizing everyone was watching him. “Spot Conlon just makes us a little nervous.”

David looked confused, but Jack understood. The student council president was an intimidating guy, even if he was only four feet tall.

“Well he doesn’t make me nervous,” Jack said. “So you and me, Boots, we’ll go down to the office. And Dave can keep us company!” He clapped his hand on David’s shoulder, grinning.

“Sure,” David agreed, “right after you let Pulitzer know what our demands are.”

Jack paled considerably. “Me?”

“You’re the leader, Jack,” David said, grabbing Jack by the shoulders and steering him towards the phone. “Call the Department of Education, see if you can’t him on the phone. He should know one of his schools is plotting his downfall and all.”

‘Plotting his downfall’ made Jack feel a bit like a comic book villain, and usually that’d be pretty cool, but he was actually feeling kind of nauseous.

Jack didn’t talk to adults. Authority was not something he dealt well with. He’d rebelled against just about everyone; social workers, foster parents who treated him like crap, therapists who tried to pick his brain and diagnose him with every mental illness under the sun.

They made him nervous. For years now, his life had been run by people who didn’t really know him, or care about him. They were doing their job, and he got that, he did, but that didn’t mean it didn’t suck. It certainly didn’t make him like them anymore.

Jack could work a group of teenagers into an unstoppable frenzy with a few choice words. He didn’t know how to do that with adults. He glanced nervously at David, but the other boy just smiled back and handed him the phone number he needed.

He could do this. He was the leader.

Jack dialed the number, listening to the ringing and then navigating his way through the voice message until he was on hold for the superintendent’s secretary.

While he waited for someone to pick up, he watched David, who was standing in the doorway of the office, talking to a teacher who was glancing around the room with interest. Jack recognized him, but only in passing, and didn’t know his name. He seemed pretty invested in what David was saying though, and that made Jack smile despite the knot in his stomach.

“Are you still on the line?”

Jack nearly dropped the phone at the sound of the man’s voice on the other end of the call, and had to fumble with it a moment before it was pressed properly to his ear.

“Yes, yes, I am, hi.” He shut his eyes for a second and collected his thoughts before speaking again. “My name is Jack Kelly. I’m a senior at Horace Greeley High School, and I work on the newspaper here at the school. I’d like to talk to Mr. Pulitzer about his plan to cut the program.”

“Does Mr. Pulitzer know you’re calling?”

Jack faltered. “Uh, not unless he’s psychic.”

“Mr. Pulitzer is a very busy man, Mr. Kelly. He doesn’t have the time for silly phone calls.”

That made Jack’s blood boil. “Fine. Then could you inform Mr. Pulitzer that we’re not going down without a fight, and none of the other kids will either.”

He hung up the phone then, probably rougher than necessary, and marched over to David and the teacher. “Does Mr. Pulitzer know you’re calling?” he mocked, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I didn’t yell, or curse, I was real polite until the end, I promise.”

David and the teacher both looked amused by Jack’s commentary on the conversation, though David’s expression was less condescending, and Jack appreciated that.

“Jack, this is Mr. Denton. He teaches history,” David introduced.

“I’ve seen him around,” Jack said, holding out his hand for Denton to shake. If there was one thing he had learned, it was that shaking hands always left a good impression, and good impressions were pretty important right now. “Nice to meet you. Uh, did you need something from us?”

Denton shook his head. “Oh, no, I was walking by when I heard the…commotion. David here told me what you guys are planning. I heard about the cuts yesterday, I’m impressed with how quickly you’re all moving. You’re obviously very dedicated to the program. I’d like to offer any assistance I can, if you’ll take it.”

Jack glanced at David, who was nodding encouragingly. Having a teacher on their side would be huge, he knew, but Jack couldn’t stop himself from feeling reluctant about accepting the help.

David placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it lightly, offering a reassuring smile.

“We really appreciate that sir, thank you,” Jack said finally, nodding at the teacher.

Denton nodded in return, telling the boys to email him about their next meeting before dismissing himself to get ready for his first class of the day.

“You did great, Jack.”

“ _We_ did great, Dave,” Jack corrected, grinning. He felt like there was a little less pressure on his chest now. Despite the fact that there was still so much to do and so much that could go wrong, not to mention the fact that he was honestly a bit terrified, he felt like they’d accomplished something big this morning by getting things rolling. “So, now what?”

The first bell rang, and everyone still lingering in the room ran out, shouting and laughing excitedly about the strike.

David chuckled. “Now, we’re going to go to class. Then, I’m pretty sure I remember you saying something about Spot Conlon and the student council.”

Jack sighed. “I don’t think I’ve ever actually been grateful for class before.”

“He’s that bad?”

“….just wait. You’ll see for yourself.”


	8. The World Will Know - Part 2

Spot Conlon was every bit as intimidating as Boots and Jack said he would be. He was also shorter than David had expected, and that somehow made the whole thing just a little bit worse.

Someone who only came up to his chin should not scare him so much.

He had a confidence about him that David envied, though, and there was something about the way he held himself, about the way Jack and Boots regarded him that told David he had a lot of pull around the school.

He didn’t seem upset to see the small group. He and Jack apparently had some sort of friendship, and they shook hands when the three of them walked into the conference room the student council used a base.

“How ya doin’, Spot?” Jack asked, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms.

Spot mirrored Jack’s position, a smirk playing on his face. “I should be asking you that, Jacky boy. I’ve been hearing whispers around the school all morning. The newspaper boys are playing like they’re going on strike.”

David didn’t like how amused Spot seemed by all of this. They hadn’t come here to be laughed at, they came here to ask for his help.

“We’re not playing like anything. We’re not going to let them shut down any of the programs.”

Spot’s entire focus was on David now, and he looked almost irritated that he’d spoken up. “Oh yeah, yeah?” Spot took a large step towards David, staring up at him. David stared back, hoping no one else could tell how fast his heart was racing. “What’s this, Jacky, some kind of walking mouth?”

Well. He’d certainly been called worse things before.

“Yeah it’s a mouth, a mouth with a brain,” he heard Jack say behind him. “And if you have half of one you’ll listen to what he has to say.”

David’s pride swelled in his chest despite the panic that was slowly setting in. What did you say to someone like Spot? Better yet, what did you say to anyone to make this crazy idea sound a little less crazy?

“Well, we’ve started this whole thing, but we need more than just the paper involved, so we’ve been going around to the other clubs, trying to get them to join up with us,” David started, shoving his hands in his pockets so Spot wouldn’t notice them shaking.

“Yeah, so people have been telling me,” Spot said, sitting back in one of the chairs. “And what’d they tell you?”

“That they’re waiting to hear what Spot Conlon does,” David told him, relaxing a bit when he saw Spot crack a hint of a smile. “You’re the leader, you’ve got the most power in the school. Everyone looks up to you. If you join up, they will, too, so you’ve gotta join because – well you gotta!”

Spot looked pleased, and so did Jack, who’d moved from standing behind him to hovering at his side, and for a second David thought they’d actually managed to convince him.

“You’re right, Jacky, guy’s got brains. But I’ve got brains, too, and more than half of one. What’s to say you all aren’t gonna run at the first sign of trouble? The first time a teacher tries to scare you all off?”

It was a good question, one David didn’t have an answer to. There was no telling what the others would do if threatened with detention, or suspension. He wasn’t even sure what _he_ would do. His full ride to Columbia relied on his GPA and lack of a record. Trouble wasn’t really something he could afford.

“Because I’m telling you, Spot.”

Jack had an answer, though, and he said is with such confidence that even David believed him.

Unfortunately, it didn’t seem like Spot was going to be swayed by the tone of Jack’s voice as easily as David had been. “Not good enough, Jacky boy,” Spot said. David could practically feel Boots and Jack deflating as Spot continued. “I can’t stick my neck out for you like that only for the bunch of you to fall on your asses. You gotta prove it to me first.”

They left not long after, and the defeated look on Boots’ face as he headed off for his next class matched how David was feeling.

“Hey, cheer up, Davey. It ain’t over yet.”

Jack was still smiling, maybe not as brightly as before, but his optimism was still bouncing off the walls of the empty hallway, and something about it was contagious. Still, David couldn’t seem to stop himself from echoing Spot’s thoughts.

“What if the guys aren’t really in like they say they are?”

Jack shrugged. “They probably aren’t. They’re an easily excited gang, doubt they really thought about what they were volunteering for. Some of them might flake, when they realize we’re serious.” Jack paused, in both his speech and his steps, watching David for a moment. “Are _you_ going to flake?”

He could say yes. He could tell Jack that he’d ditch to save his grades, his reputation. He doubted Jack would care all that much, despite the sour mood that thought put him in. They’d only known each other a couple of days, and sure, while it felt like it had been longer to David, he doubted Jack shared the sentiment.

Something was stopping him, though. As much as he knew avoiding trouble was what he needed to do, he couldn’t but feel like, if he was staring down the decision, he’d choose to stand on the newspaper’s side.

“Nah,” he said finally, offering Jack a shy smile. “I’m not gonna flake.”

The smile Jack gave him twisted something in David’s stomach, and he felt like a character in a teen romance novel as he wiped his now sweaty palms on his pants before shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Good,” Jack said brightly, the grin still stretched across his face. “The key now is to not let the others know you’re disappointed. If you lose faith, we’re pretty much screwed. I still think we have a change to pull this off though, even without Spot and the student council, especially since you’re still on board, our Walking Mouth and all.”

The grin turned into a smirk, and David sighed.

“You’re going to tell the others Spot called me that, aren’t you?” he asked.

Jack nodded.

“That’s probably going to end up as my nickname, isn’t it?”

Shoulders shaking with silent laughter, Jack nodded again, looking incredibly pleased with himself.

“Sometimes I really think I should have joined the chess club.”

Jack laughed, bumping his shoulder against David’s before slinging an arm around the other boy. “You’re stuck with us now, Dave. You’d miss us too much to leave.”

Red in the face, David just nodded, wondering if Jack realized just how right he was.


End file.
